“How do you know that?” Jack asked.
Angela shook her head in mock disappointment. “I told you. The eyes!” She clasped her hands in front of her on the table. “I’m a people-watcher, Jack. I should’ve been a jury consultant.”
Later, after finishing her meal of spinach salad and shrimp and noodle soup, Angela studied him for a moment. She mentioned her favorite steak place, adding, “The chef’s wife is a friend of mine.”
“Is that right?”
“I’ll have to introduce you,” she continued. “We should go sometime.”
An engraved invitation, Jack thought, swooping in with, “How about this Friday night?”
Angela beamed at his dating acumen. So another date was set for the weekend. “Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy,” Nattie might have said. But he couldn’t help imagining that Angela was watching his eyes for things he didn’t even realize he was communicating.
I’ve got this dating thing by the tail, Jack thought while driving home. He remembered San’s advice, fortunately not given within Nattie’s hearing. “Angela’s ready to settle down, so get out your wallet if you’re serious, ’cause she’s done window shopping.”
Laura had quickly agreed to stay late on Friday with Nattie. However, before Jack headed for the garage, Nattie quizzed him with undiluted anxiety. “Angela, again”
“This is what dating looks like, sweetie,” Jack replied, sounding even to himself like he’d become an expert. He gave her a long hug good-bye, but Nattie held on, letting go only after he patted the hand that had become super-glued to his neck. He kissed her cheek, but her pout remained—the evening with Karen Jones still fresh in her memory.
“Laura looks really pretty tonight,” Nattie said glumly, but Jack didn’t bite.
She’ll be happy, he thought, backing out of the garage in his lumbering Ford, once she meets Angela Walberg.
According to their previous agreement, Jack and Angela met in the waiting area of the restaurant. She showed up in an eye-catching red-and-white print dress and white heels. Jack felt quite tailored in his pinstriped gray suit.
After a quick glance at a menu, which Angela had apparently memorized, she pointed to the prime rib and Jack took her suggestion. Their conversation progressed beyond previously established boundaries, during which Angela introduced a few tidbits about her earlier relationships. Jack listened uneasily, scouring her words for clues.
Stretching his rather limited social repertoire, Jack told a few more Nattie stories, including more of their past history. Angela’s eyes brightened suddenly. “So you missed out on the diapering years, eh?”
He shrugged. “I guess I did.”
“Boy, were you lucky. I was the oldest of four, and let me tell you, I’m not a fan of screaming babies. I don’t even think really young kids should be allowed in restaurants.”
At this comment, Angela tilted her head toward a far table, indicating a young family of four, including a fussy young child. Jack hadn’t even noticed them until now. Angela rolled her eyes, then broke into a soft laugh. “Who in their right mind would bring children to an upscale place like this to eat?”
At the end of their enjoyable dinner, they lingered in the corner of the plush lobby, making plans to meet again. Jack caught Angela’s irresistible gaze and leaned near to kiss her.
Angela brushed her hand along his shoulder, met his eyes in an alluring manner, and said, “So when can I get to know this precocious child of yours whom you and San cannot stop talking about?”
“Nattie can’t wait to meet you, either,” he told her, hoping he wouldn’t be held accountable for the mild exaggeration.
Like most men and women on the brink of coupledom, they texted over the weekend, and when Jack called Sunday night to invite Angela for supper at his place, she said yes immediately. “San says your daughter’s nanny is a wonder in the kitchen. I’ve always wanted to try something authentically Amish.”
Jack suggested the following Friday, nearly a week away, but Angela had plans to visit friends in Cleveland. And, as it turned out, their schedules simply didn’t mesh during the next week either. Except for tomorrow night. “A Monday night supper—will that work for you?”
“At least it’s not Monday night football,” Angela laughed. “So, sure.”
“Perfect.” And it was, Jack told himself. This way he wouldn’t be tempted to procrastinate about telling Nattie. And less time for her to fret or scheme.
While tucking Nattie in that evening, Jack revealed the plan. She took the news with relative ease. Perhaps it was Angela’s special request for Nattie’s attendance that made all the difference, not to mention the great interest in Laura’s Amish cooking. Nattie loved to show Laura off.
“We’re going old school tonight,” Nattie said, reaching under her covers and handing him Raggedy Ann.
After two Monday morning flights, Jack hightailed it home and dedicated himself to helping Laura with the preparations, as before. She was happy to select several typical Amish offerings, including chow chow, pickled beets, and for the main course: chicken loaf. While Laura worked, she whistled along to her much-loved country radio station.
Doing her part, Nattie took out the garbage and scoured the downstairs bathroom. By four o’clock she was already dressed in a pleated tan skirt and a cheetah-print top, shadowing Laura around the kitchen.
Jack, on the other hand, had no idea what to wear. He came downstairs to model his pants and shirt for Laura, who wrinkled her nose politely. “Perhaps you might call San,” she suggested, trying to squelch a grin at his color deficiency.
Jack sighed, dialing his sister’s number, then describing the colors over the phone. San was fussier than usual, suggesting a few changes. “I think you might want a tie,” she told him while he switched to speaker phone, fumbled around in his closet, and changed into a button-down.
“How long is Laura staying around tonight?” she asked.
Jack hedged. “We haven’t worked out the details.”
“But she is leaving, right?” San pressed, and then she must have realized the time. “Wait a minute, it’s already—”
The doorbell rang, saving him from further interrogation. “Oops, gotta go, San,” Jack quipped, disconnecting quickly.
Downstairs, Angela was standing at the threshold, looking exceptionally lovely with her long blond hair loose and wavy. A bold silver and white necklace and matching bracelet harmonized perfectly with her lavender dress. Even Nattie, who’d seen the epitome of fashion with San, seemed impressed, looking up at Jack with amazement. “You’re dating her?” Nattie’s eyes seemed to say.
Jack introduced Angela first to Laura, who greeted their guest graciously, smiling shyly. Then he introduced Angela to Nattie, who put out her hand and actually did a polite little bob as she said, “Pleased to meet you, Angela.”
Jack smiled at his daughter’s stellar manners and immediately felt more relaxed, despite the fact that he hadn’t had time to add a tie per San’s instructions.
“Would you like a preview of our Amish cuisine?” he asked, happy to be the host while Laura completed the finishing touches in the kitchen.
“Pickled beets? I’ve never even heard of them!”
“They’re delicious,” Nattie told her.
“I can’t wait,” Angela exclaimed, rubbing her hands together.
Nattie giggled at the gesture. “That’s what I do!” she said. And the two of them rubbed their hands together, ending in a duet of laughter.
Already bonding! Jack thought, contented that the evening was off to a terrific start.
Angela asked to use the restroom, and Jack directed her to the one next to the kitchen before turning to Nattie to model his attire. “How do I look?”
Nattie laughed. “You out-look me.”
Later, in the dining room, Jack offered a table blessing, and Laura and Nattie glanced at each other and said a short prayer in their private language. Angela seemed to love it, her eyes following Laura after t
he amen was said by all.
Laura efficiently served the chow chow and pickled beets as Angela listened to Nattie’s tales about her auntie San, one in particular that had occurred at a lakeside cabin not far from here.
“It was Auntie San’s one and only attempt to water ski,” Nattie told her dramatically, eyes wide, which encouraged Jack. As did Angela’s apparent amusement.
Laura brought over a bread basket of hot butter horns, straight from the oven. “There’s homemade apple butter or peach jam,” she said. “Whatever you’d like.”
Jack deferred to Angela, who chose the apple butter, all smiles.
It wasn’t long before Nattie asked Angela to recite her favorite movies. Angela was marvelous, glancing toward the ceiling before reciting the kinds of films only a child might appreciate.
Laura carried over the chicken loaf and offered to serve it individually while Angela inquired about her Amish traditions—church every other Sunday, a dress code, and growing up without electricity. Cutting generous portions of the chicken loaf, Laura graciously answered, meeting Jack’s gaze as she moved around the table, likely overly concerned about monopolizing the conversation.
“Do you mind if I ask how long you’ve been Nattie’s nanny?” Angela asked, studying Laura with undisguised curiosity. Laura told her, and Angela’s jovial expression faded. “Wow, that’s a long time.”
“Jah,” Laura replied proudly, once again glancing at Jack.
“Laura could actually be my Mamma,” Nattie announced, then launched into Pennsylvania Dutch. “Ich lieb dich unauserschprechlich.”
Angela’s eyebrows rose and Jack’s heart went thud.
“I have no idea what you just said,” Angela confessed with a smile.
“It means I love you beyond measure—meaning Laura.” Then Nattie added another unsolicited morsel. “Nearly everyone asks if Laura’s married to my dad.”
“Ach, now, Nattie,” Laura said.
Jack struggled to keep his composure.
“And why do you think people say that?” Angela pressed.
Nattie grinned, oblivious to the rising tension. “For one thing, she practically lives here.”
Laura squeezed Nattie’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear, at which Nattie’s expression went cold.
“I’m sorry,” his daughter said abruptly.
“That’s all right,” Angela replied, her expression puzzled.
In fact, the apology only seemed to worsen matters, as the entire room seemed to reverberate with Nattie’s overshare. Angela cleared her throat, and Nattie lowered her head to focus on her food. Whatever Laura had whispered had made her completely wilt.
Angela asked if Laura would mind jotting down some of her Amish recipes, and when Jack mentioned one of Nattie’s photo albums, Angela responded earnestly, “I’d love to see your pictures.”
Nattie nodded politely but without her usual exuberance. Laura met Jack’s eyes as she removed the plates, as if to say, “I’m sorry about this.”
Jack, in turn, focused his smile on Angela, hoping to make light of Nattie’s faux pas. However, Angela’s smile had vanished, her face ghostly white, as if she’d just seen an apparition.
What now?
The remainder of the evening rolled along without further incident, but Angela’s mood never fully recovered. After a spiritless game of dominoes—Nattie won twice—Jack walked Angela to the door, and while she was gracious enough, she wasn’t the vivacious woman who’d walked in his house.
Before stepping out, Angela looked around, presumably to thank Laura, but Laura had mysteriously disappeared.
Jack walked with her to her car, and when he opened her door, she extended her hand. “I enjoyed the evening, Jack. Please give my regards to the cook.”
He offered a few parting words, but they came out awkward and apologetic. Moments later, Angela backed out of the driveway and was gone.
Jack returned to the house to check on Nattie, now sitting at the couch with Laura’s arm draped around her. It was evident that the two of them had been commiserating.
“I hope you’re not mad at me, Dad,” Nattie said.
“Of course not,” Jack said.
“Can I go and play with Chelsea?” she asked. Chelsea was pal number seven on Nattie’s list and lived four houses down. “She called while you were outside.”
Nattie agreed to the usual sidewalk safety restrictions, and since it was still light, Jack allowed Nattie to ride her bike, leaving Jack and Laura momentarily alone to mull over the evening.
He helped Laura load the dishwasher, working in awkward silence. Before long he couldn’t help it. Holding a dish towel, he leaned against the counter, crossed his arms, and began to chuckle. Laura pressed a few buttons and the dishwasher whirred into life. She stood across from him, regarding him curiously.
“I know, I know. That was a disaster,” Jack said. “I might need remedial dating instruction, after all.”
“I don’t know what came over her, honestly.” Laura stared glumly at the floor.
“I wondered the same.”
Laura sighed. “The dear child knows better.”
It was then that Jack realized Laura was talking about Nattie, while he’d been referring to Angela.
Had Laura completely missed Angela’s altered mood?
Surely not.
Laura must have figured Angela had been frustrated with Nattie, because in the Amish culture, kids were expected to stay silent, to express the utmost respect for their elders, and never speak out of turn.
But Angela wasn’t upset with Nattie at all. Jack knew this for certain. Angela was upset by what she thought she saw.
Laura sniffed softly. “I think Nattie’s been more nervous about your dating than she’s let on.”
She’s let on quite a bit, Jack thought.
Laura met his eyes, and they regarded each other for a moment, the kind of gaze that must have unsettled Angela, a natural moment between two people who have a comfortable history with each other.
And that’s all, Jack noted to himself before replying. “Nattie’s worried someone will come along and replace you, Laura. I’ve tried to assure her that it won’t happen.”
Laura didn’t respond at first. She seemed peculiarly contemplative, pondering the evening, perhaps.
“What are you thinking?”
Laura shrugged, biting her lip, as if choosing her words carefully. “Jack, I think Nattie’s more afraid that you’ll find another woman to replace her.”
Jack suddenly felt deflated. He hadn’t considered that. Replace Nattie? He groaned inwardly. He tossed the dish towel into the sink and blew out a long breath. “I’m not sure my dating is a good idea anymore.”
Laura caught his eyes at that moment, as if judging the seriousness of his intention. Jack extended his arms, smoothing his hands along the tile counter.
“No,” he said, fully settled. “Nattie’s not ready.”
Moments passed as neither said a word. Finally, Laura grabbed her keys from the counter. “Well, I’d better go.”
“Tomorrow?”
She nodded and gave him a gentle wave, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she seemed relieved.
Nattie returned from her visit with Chelsea, full of smiles, the evening with Angela in her rearview window.
Waiting for Nattie to get ready for bed, Jack sat in his office, listening to music, unable to forget the pained look in Angela’s eyes, as if she’d just witnessed a crime: the lingering gaze between Laura and himself.
A pile of mail lay on his desk, placed there by Laura. He sorted through it, removed one of the very few bills that was not auto-pay, and wrote out the check and sealed the envelope, waiting for Nattie to announce that she was ready to be tucked in.
Their nighttime routine was one of the few constants in her life. No matter how badly the day had gone, at the end of the day, they thanked God for His many blessings, especially for the ones unseen.
In the early days of his guar
dianship, Jack had purchased a dozen parenting books and had even hired a family counselor for advice. The counselor had suggested a nightly routine, something that would give Nattie stability. Tucking her in became a time when he wanted Nattie to feel safe, where she could speak without repercussions. Of course, Nattie was particularly thrilled to include him in her world of stuffed animals and fairy tales.
Jack also learned that he was supposed to walk the fence between erring on the side of too permissive or too strict. With the passage of time, it was becoming a conundrum, finding the right balance between rules and freedom. He didn’t want her to think she was living in a prison, but he wanted her to have the security of boundaries. He also knew that he didn’t have to get it perfectly right, as long as Nattie always knew she was loved.
But his aspirations didn’t stop there. Yes, he wanted to raise Nattie with clear lines and strong discipline, but he also wanted to transmit to her the message that, as far as he was concerned, she could do no wrong. That she was living a forgiven life.
It was the opposite of how he’d been raised, as if he could do nothing right. His mother had a knack for seeing the cloud behind every silver lining, and his father was too weak to stand in her way.
San, of course, told Jack he was obsessing. “You’ve put your life on hold for Nattie.”
This was where she was wrong. He hadn’t put his life on hold; Nattie was his life.
Still waiting for Nattie’s summons, Jack leaned back in his chair and thought about tonight’s dinner date with Angela, with its disastrous ending.
“It’s in the eyes,” Angela had told him at the restaurant.
Had he been missing this all along? Could Laura actually have feelings for him?
No. Of course not.
In spite of Angela’s reaction, whatever she thought she saw, she was wrong.
Badly wrong.
But still. He couldn’t continue dating, not with the slightest possibility of hurting Laura. Or hurting Nattie.
“She’s afraid you’ll replace her,” Laura had said. That, in itself, was reason enough.
Big mistake, he thought, squinting his eyes shut. Big.
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